


Captive Hearts

by ilovemygaydad



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Dystopian!AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovemygaydad/pseuds/ilovemygaydad
Summary: Prompts: “What’s that? Why is the sky like that?” “What? Have you never seen a sunset before?”; “Please answer me.”Roman Sanders is a rebel soldier, and he is going on his first raid mission.Warnings: death mentions, gun mentions, mass shootings, prisons, dystopian societies, executions mentioned, physical fights, being mean to others, mentions of wounds, amputations, prosthetics, a metric ton of swearing, panic attacks, anxiety, IVs, hospitals, and i think that’s it but... there’s a lot of shit that goes down





	Captive Hearts

Roman was so excited to go on his very first raid mission. He had spent the last twenty-one years training for this very day, and now he was finally able to do it! And on his birthday, no less. It was an exciting day, even if Logan was being a giant thorn in his side.

“Roman, do remember that this warehouse is over twenty klicks away on rough terrain, and we are only going to be able to bring enough provisions for us for the next twenty-four hours. Don’t go off-route, and certainly don’t lag behind. This is a very important mission for us to gain supplies; I will not have a rookie like you messing this up.”

“Oh my gods, Specs!” Roman sighed. “First off, you’re only twenty-two, so it’s not like you’re some seasoned veteran like Patton. Second, give me a break! I’m far more reliable than you’re making me out to be. I wouldn’t have made it into L-1 if I was stupid.”

Patton set down the bag he was packing with a grimace. “Well, kiddo, you did go off course in the sim to save that ‘child’ that ended up being a trap. And then you died in that sim. And there was also the time you lagged behind because you were sure that you had found something in the woods and wound up getting lost until we were on our way back. Oh, and what about--”

“Okay! Okay, I get it. I’m a horrible soldier.  _However_ , I know that this is far more dire than a sim. I won’t screw up, promise.”

Logan glared at him for a second, but he wave his hand in dismissal. “Fine. Just remember that I am the captain of this mission, so you are to report back to me if anything goes awry. All thirty of us will have comm-packs, so it shouldn’t be an issue to contact me; however, if something does happen to your comm-packs, I will be notified of such.” He handed Roman his bag. “Shall we?”

“Fuck yes!”

“Roman Sanders,” Patton chided as he readied the gate.

“Um… Heck yeah!”

“Better.”

* * *

The supplies raid didn’t end up being a supplies raid at all. It was a warehouse full of  _prisoners_. And, gods, it was a bloodbath. As soon as the rebel soldiers had been spotted, instead of shooting at the soldiers, the Savior guards began to kill off the prisoners. Roman had desperately wanted to run ahead--to try and save even one of those people, but he knew that he couldn’t jeopardize himself or the mission like that. He had promised.

So, instead, he followed Logan’s orders to the letter, and he watched countless children and adults die. These innocent people were killed right before his eyes, and all he could do was hang back and stay safe while the others secured the perimeters and took the guards as prisoners. Roman was too important to lose.

All of that hurt--it hurt so fucking bad--but none of it was as awful as having to go around from room to room and check for survivors so they’d know who to loot and bury. It was a slaughter that he had not been able to stop, and they were just going to take the useful clothes and other items and dump the bodies into unmarked mass graves. Roman loved the cause that he was fighting for, and he knew that he was on the right side, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Each time that he went to find a pulse on a kid not much older than his brother, he felt his soul crumble that much more.

He had gone through four or so rooms without finding anyone still living. Logan had ordered the search to cease in five minutes before regrouping to determine a burial strategy, so Roman only had time to go through one last room. There were only three bodies in this one, all huddled together in the back corner, so it was easy to go through it quickly. He made it through the first two with the same results as before, but the body farthest back… had a pulse.

“Holy--Oh my gods, wake up!” Roman shook the boy in front of him gently, willing him to wake up. “Are you alright? Oh, please answer me!”

When nothing happened, Roman decided that he obviously needed to save this boy. He was so frail; it looked like he hadn’t had a proper meal in… well, ever. With an uncomfortable amount of ease, Roman scooped him up into his arms and rushed back to the rendezvous point. Most of the crew was there already, save for Patton and a few others.

“Logan, I--”

“Roman, why are you carrying a body around?”

“It’s a survivor! We have to take him back with us.” Roman took a step forward, but Logan held out his hand to stop him.

“Absolutely not. We will leave him here for the night and bring him back with the Savior guards tomorrow.”

“Logan, please--”

“What,” Patton interrupted, stepping into the room. “Is going on here?”

Logan gestured frustratedly at Roman. “He wants to take this survivor back with us tonight even though we don’t have the supplies to do so.”

Roman felt angry fire burn through his veins. “Have a heart, will you, Logan? He. Will.  _Die_. We have to take him back tonight. He is injured and starving, and I am not going to just leave him here--completely alone, mind you--because you’re too set in your ways to even budge a little.” He turned to Patton, pleading. “I’ll keep him as my sole responsibility. No one else has to even think about him; I promise! Just let me take him with us.  _Please_.”

“Well, Logan… I know that it’s not ideal, but Roman does make a good point.”

Logan glared at both of them. “Whatever. Fine. But you are taking care of him the whole way back, and you will be in charge of him at camp. He is not my responsibility, nor anyone else’s. Do you understand, Roman?”

“Yes! Oh, thank you so much. I promise that you won’t regret it.”

* * *

Roman may or may not have underestimated how much energy it would take to carry the survivor back to camp. Sure, he weighed maybe forty-five kilos, but that was a lot to carry for a twenty klick hike. The other soldiers were starting to get farther ahead, moving much faster. Logan would kick his ass if he got lost, but it wasn’t like he could ask for help. His stubborn nature had brought this upon himself, and he had to deal.

“Hey, Ro… Do you want a break? You look like you’re about to pass out,” Patton asked gently.

Roman nearly dropped the boy due to his shock. “God, Patton. Warn a guy next time.”

“Whoops, sorry, kiddo. Seriously, though. Let me take him for a while, okay? We don’t have to tell Logan.”

Before an argument could even form in his head, Patton had scooped the survivor into his arms. There wasn’t anything that Roman could say that would make Patton do anything else. The twenty-nine-year-old was the oldest and most successful in their sector. If it weren’t for rules, he probably would have made it into raid teams at sixteen. Patton was a six-four, two-hundred pound beast with intelligence to rival Logan, who was undisputedly the smartest person to ever join the rebellion. And Patton had a heart of gold, so he was a bit more stubborn than anyone else on the team when it came to helping.

Roman did appreciate it, though. He was actually able to chill out and look at the landscape. Their sector was surrounded by forest. They weren’t allowed to go out very far for fear of traps that had been set by the Saviors, so Roman hadn’t seen most of it, but he was able to see tons of flowers and plants that didn’t grow near their base. Little blue flowers grew along the sides of the path, and wild violets--Patton had pointed those out--were sprinkled around the ground further out into the foliage. If he wasn’t tied so strictly to the rules that he was already technically breaking, Roman would have been eager to run out and be among the nature.

But he didn't. He just fell into step with Patton, and they idly chatted until they were back at the base.

* * *

Virgil… couldn’t feel his arm. He tried to think if he’d fallen asleep on it, or maybe Raleigh or Sel accidentally did, but his last memories were fuzzy at best. His eyes cracked open slightly, and he was met with bright, white light, which was even more strange than not being able to feel his arm. Prisoners were always woken up before being brought outside to watch the executions, so why…?

Wait, where the hell was he?

Virgil sat up lightning fast. He raked his eyes around his surroundings and saw absolutely nothing familiar. A weird, clear snake-thing and bag of liquid was hooked into his arm--oh, shit, was he going to die?--and he was on a soft table of some sort with a scratchy piece of cloth draped over him. Someone he didn’t recognize was slumped in a chair--is that what a chair is???--in a corner asleep. There was a huge window on one of the walls, and a crate-like thing below it with a few metal things on it.

And his right arm was just fucking gone. Just not there. His right shoulder now ended up in a stump. He had lost his arm.

Holy shit, he had no idea where he was, and his arm had been cut off.

Breaths were coming in short, wheezing patterns, but Virgil was completely unable to calm himself. Who wouldn’t flip the fuck out when they woke up in a weird room and  _missing a fucking appendage_? Tears welled up in his eyes as his brain raced through the possibilities. The guy in the corner seemed unarmed. If he could find something sharp, he might be able to escape and find out what the hell was going on.

As quietly as one having a panic attack could, Virgil slipped off the bed and ripped out the snake that had been inserted into his arm for mobility. He attempted to compose himself--and admittedly failed--as he stalked over to the crates under the window. After a few minutes of poking around, he found exactly what he was looking for. A sharp, pointy metal stick had been sitting on a tray of other equally sharp and pointy sticks inside the crate. Carefully, Virgil picked it up, holding it tightly by the handle. Now, to--

“Oh! You’re awake. Hello!”

Virgil spun around violently, swinging out his arm in an attempt to maim the person behind him. The stick pointed out in front of him as he stared, chest heaving, at the man. He was the one who had been asleep in the chair just moments prior. He looked afraid. Good.

“Um, if you would please put that scalpel down, sir…” He spoke too well. He had to be one of those awful doctors that the other captives whispered about when one of them was taken away and never seen again. Virgil swung his arm again, but the man jumped backwards just as fast. “Woah! Stop! Dude, please, I just want to ask some questions so that I can figure some things out about the Saviors.”

There was a second of hesitation, but Virgil lunged this time, throwing the stick to the side and using his hands to claw at the man. Well, he tried to do that. Within a second, Virgil was pinned to the ground with a knee resting just between his shoulders.

“Can you  _please_  calm down? I’ll explain everything if you’d just stop trying to kill me.”

Virgil hissed. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I--Wow! That’s extremely rude, you know, to say for someone who saved you from that dreadful Savior warehouse and almost single-handedly carried you twenty klicks back to our base.”

“Motherfu--wait, what?”

The man huffed. “Honestly, what does it take for a valiant soldier to get some recognition around here? I find the one survivor in the whole facility, and I’m almost told to just leave him there to die. However, I fight for this survivor and convince my hardened leader to allow me to bring him back with us. I stay with him day and night for the next two weeks as he fights off a nasty infection and a coma, and then this happens! He tries to kill me! How absolutely rude is that?”

“One survivor?” Virgil processed what he’d heard. “Oh my god…” Raleigh and Sel were dead. They were actually dead. Not only was he in a place that he was completely unfamiliar with, his only friends were fucking  _dead_.

“Yes. It was absolutely devestating--”

“Get the hell off me.”

“Wha--”

“Get.  _Off_.” The pressure on his back immediately lessened, and he could see that the man slumped against the crates next to him. Virgil pushed himself into a sitting position and curled up, trying not to cry. He couldn’t show weakness. He didn’t want to be punished for crying.

“Did you… were those two people in the room with you your friends?”

Virgil couldn’t find his voice, so he nodded slightly, taking care to not make eye contact.

“I’m very sorry about that. From what I saw of the aftermath, they are responsible for your survival. They took most of the bullets, and you escaped with only one shot in your right arm. The wound did end up becoming heavily infected due to the lack of attention I was able to give it before our arrival here, and your arm needed to be amputated, but we are working on making you a prosthetic.”

“A… prosthetic?” Virgil flicked his eyes up in confusion.

“Yeah, a prosthetic.” The man said it as though it were obvious.

“Oh… Right.” He had no fucking idea what he was talking about.

The man didn’t comment on Virgil’s hesitation if he even noticed it at all (which, honestly, Virgil doubted because he seemed rather… unobservant). “Is it alright if I call the nurse to replace your IV? It’ll help you feel better.”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in a minute.” The man stood up and started to exit, but he paused at the door. “I forgot to ask. What’s your name?”

“Virgil.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil. My name is Roman.”

* * *

It had been a few weeks since Virgil learned what scalpels and prosthetics and IVs were. He’d learned a lot of things during that time. As it turned out, being held captive since you were a toddler led to a lot of lost knowledge of the world. Virgil learned about beds and cabinets and spaghetti and so many other awesome things like  _swords_. Giant, shiny, stabby pieces of fucking metal! It was amazing.

Not only that, but Virgil was making new friends. He’d met Patton and Logan, who Roman claimed to be his “best friends,” even though Logan seemed less than enthused to be categorized as such. Patton was a sweetheart, and he was the one who designed Virgil’s awesome prosthetic arm, and Logan was just really smart and calming. He liked them both.

Over the weeks, he spent the most time with Roman. The soldier had helped him heal, and he had even brought him out to watch training sessions a few times as entertainment. He’d sworn to secrecy not to tell another soul that this had happened, but Roman allowed Virgil to spar with him a few times, and they discovered that, due to his small size, Virgil was extremely agile.

“Hey, Virge. What are you thinking about?”

Virgil snapped out of his reminiscence. “What? Oh, sorry. I was just zoning out.”

“Good.” Roman grabbed his hands and pulled him out of the cot (Virgil’s own cot because he actually had his own room now). “I want to show you the roof!”

“Gods, Roman, I’ve already seen a roof. This isn’t some learning opportunity. You’re just being weird.”

“Hush and let me take you outside. The weather’s very nice, and neither Patton nor Logan are willing to come out with me.”

A smirk tugged at Virgil’s lips, and he teased, “Roman, I’m hurt. I can’t believe that I’m your last choice.”

Roman laughed and continued to drag him around the facility. “Whatever.”

When they entered the fresh air outside, Virgil felt so refreshed. He closed his eyes and inhaled the clean, cool air. That was something that he had never gotten used to--being able to go outside virtually whenever he wanted. It was incredible. He opened his eyes to take in the view--

“Roman, what’s that? Why is the sky like that?! What is going on?” Virgil pointed at the orange and pink sky and clung to his companion.

“What?” Roman held Virgil back, but he did look very confused. “Have you never seen a sunset before?”

“A  _what_?!”

“A sunset. Between day and night, there are periods of time where the sun rises and sets. During that time, the sky turns different colors due to small particles of dust.” His gaze softened. “It’s nothing to worry about, Virge. I promise.”

“But--”

“Hey, how about we sit down and watch the sky. Nothing bad will happen, but if you truly start to feel upset, we’ll go back inside. Alright?”

Virgil looked into Roman’s eyes for a few moments. If he had learned anything since his emancipation from the Saviors, it was that Roman never broke a promise. “Okay.”

It wasn’t long before Virgil and Roman had both fallen asleep in a tiny pile on the roof in a puddle of silver moonlight.

**Author's Note:**

> **don’t rip out ivs it’s Really Bad and i know this is a trope but uhhhh virgil doesn’t know any better because he literally has the knowledge of like a 7 year old child who has only seen the outside world like 50 times in 21 years


End file.
